


Barstool Throne

by chadillacboseman



Category: Burn Notice: The Fall of Sam Axe (2011)
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29803635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chadillacboseman/pseuds/chadillacboseman
Summary: You work as an exchange healthcare worker at a small hospital in Colombia. You try to avoid trouble, but sometimes it finds you at the bar.
Relationships: Veracruz (Burn Notice)/Reader





	Barstool Throne

Veracruz was a piece of shit, of that you were certain. The man didn’t exactly try to hide it either, often sauntering into the bar with his squad and making sure the whole building knew they were there. You tried to avoid the bar when you could, but often shifts at the hospital ended in a mood that only cheap booze could fix. Showing up in your scrubs was a bonus because it often earned you a free drink or two from the bartender. You had been working at the local hospital for the better part of two months on a work exchange program, living in the provided housing adjacent to the building. It wasn’t a bad gig- you made decent money and the other staff were fairly accommodating to a newcomer. 

For the most part, you avoided unwanted attention, but there were always nights where the attention found you despite your best efforts. And tonight, you felt the unwanted eyes of Veracruz and his squad on your back as you made your way to your favorite barstool. 

“¡Hola amiga! ¿De tomar?” The bartender was friendly as usual, but his eyes darted to the table in the far corner as you spoke, as if he sensed trouble brewing. 

The trouble made itself evident just as the bartender set your drink down in front of you- the blue-grey fatigues were unmistakable in your peripheral vision. It seemed Veracruz had broken off from his group and was now standing next to you, leaning against the bar, and eyeing you as if you were a steak on a butcher’s block.

“Can I help you?” You kept your words sharp and your eyes forward, sipping casually from your drink. Veracruz chuckled and signaled the bartender for a drink of his own, 

“Just admiring the view.” 

You snorted and turned to face him, ready to retort in the most vitriolic way you could muster, but you found your insult catching in your throat. The man was more handsome up close than you had realized- all jawline with an aquiline nose and a peppering of facial hair. As if he sensed your thoughts, Veracruz took a seat on the stool next to you as the bartender returned with his drink. For a moment, the bartender’s eyes flicked to yours, filled with worry at your new companion, but you smiled briefly and gave him a small nod. 

Veracruz waited for the man to leave before he returned his attention to you, 

“You must work at the hospital, eh? Doctors for All?” You silently cursed yourself for not changing into street clothes before coming to the bar, 

“Yes. And you and your...friends must be, what? Military? National Police?” Veracruz took a swig from his beer and shrugged, 

“Something like that. But I think you know I’m not here to talk about me.” His last words were almost a growl, low and unnerving. 

“Does this technique work often for you?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow, “the “asshole military guy makes me feel unsafe” vibe really doesn’t do it for me.” 

He smiled, all bright white teeth and crinkled eyes, before he responded, “Do I make you feel unsafe?” he moved almost imperceptibly closer to you, leaning in so that his face was unbearably close to yours. 

You swallowed much harder than you had intended, “You’re carrying two sidearms and enough ammo to kill everyone in this bar-” you paused to take a sip of your drink, “Am I supposed to feel at ease?” 

Veracruz considered your question for a moment, “Perhaps not. But I have no intention of hurting you-” he paused to gesture around him, “or anyone here for that matter.” 

He took another swallow of his beer before slamming it on the counter to grab the bartender’s attention. 

He turned back to face you, his dark eyes scanning your face, “At least tell me your name-” he tugged at his fatigues, “since I am at the disadvantage of having mine emblazoned on my chest.” 

You deliberated with yourself for a moment before relenting and telling him your name. He repeated it with a grin, and you hated how much you loved the way sounded in his accent, “I like it.” The heat rose in your face at his words and you tried to tamp down the girlish butterflies flitting in your gut. 

The bartender arrived with two shots of tequila in tow and set them on the counter in front of you. You raised an eyebrow and turned to Veracruz who grinned. 

“Something to ease the tension.” He threw back his shot with barely a grimace, then gestured to yours, his expression almost playful. 

Against your better judgement, you took the shot, your face contorting slightly at the taste. Veracruz laughed and clapped you on the back. 

“Will you survive?” You sputtered and scrambled for the lime wedge, pressing it into your teeth, “No thanks to you.” You shook your head to clear it and took a hearty swallow of your drink to wash it all down. 

You wished now that you had eaten your lunch as the liquor hit you like a mule kick to the chest. Veracruz watched you intently and waited until there was a pause in your miniature breakdown before he spoke, “You looked good, even while you did...whatever that was.” You snorted, “Well thank you for that.”

Veracruz eyed you intently for a moment before he spoke again, “I’ve had enough of this chase-” he waved his hand dismissively at his squad and they rose from their chairs with a clamor. It was a moment before you realized that they were clearing the bar of the few other patrons. The bartender spared you a worried glance before disappearing into a back room and leaving you alone in the empty bar with Veracruz. You became hyper aware of your breathing, which was suddenly much heavier. For a moment, you considered getting up to leave, but something held you to the chair- was it the liquor? Or was it the spark of longing you felt building in your chest? 

Veracruz’s hand on your chin snapped you out of your trance as he turned your face to his. His dark eyes bored into you as he moved to put his mouth on yours. The kiss was rough, all tongue and bites on your lip as his hands moved to your chest, brushing over your breasts through your top. 

“Do you know how long I wanted to do this?” his lips ghosted against yours as he spoke, “Every day that I saw you here, I wanted to pin you over this bar and fuck you.”

In one swift movement, he plucked you from your seat on the stool and pulled you onto his lap, your back against his chest, held in place by his hands around you. Veracruz’s mouth found your ear and he bit gently at the sensitive flesh before whispering, “Now I have you here to myself, I am going to take my time with you.” 

Veracruz’s hands snaked under the hem of your top and he tugged it up over your head and tossed it to the floor. His mouth moved to your neck, kissing and licking at your exposed skin and sending chills down your spine. Beneath you, you could feel his growing arousal through his fatigues as his hands worked their way over your chest. His hands were rough against your skin, but you pushed against them anyway, savoring the feeling of his touch as he moved them over your breasts. Without warning, he bucked his hips up and shoved you, roughly, over the bar in front of you, your feet barely came under you quickly enough to stop yourself from sliding down. Veracruz kicked the barstool away carelessly and it fell to the stone floor with a clatter. There was a rustling sound as he unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the ground. You felt his fingers gently trace down your back to the waistline of your pants before he grabbed them aggressively and pulled them down in one swift motion.

“Your arms- give them to me.” his voice was a low growl as he grabbed your wrists and pinned them in the small of your back. He fumbled, one-handed, with his belt for a moment before using it to fasten them together. He leaned forward so that his mouth was just a fraction of an inch from your ear, “So I know you’ll be a good girl for me.” he whispered, and you felt your legs grow weak. 

Veracruz grasped your hips roughly as he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing gently against your folds. 

He chuckled as you pushed back against him, “Look at you, so wet and so desperate.” You whined as he teased you, moving his cock up and down your slit slowly, tantalizingly, until you felt as if you were going to snap. 

"What do you want?" He sounded arrogant, and you wanted to slap him, but fuck did it feel good. "Use your words," he growled, tugging roughly at your restrained wrists.

"I want you to fuck me!" You cried, practically begging him to be inside you. 

Veracruz chuckled and leaned over you, moving to wrap a hand around your neck, "Say please." He whispered, his lips brushing your ear as his hand tightened on your throat. 

You hated him in that moment, but you wanted him so badly that you managed to whine, "Please fuck me."

However big you had imagined Veracruz was, it didn’t prepare you for the feeling of his cock being buried inside you. You let out a strangled cry as he bottomed out, and he chuckled again as he gave you a moment to adjust. He took hold of your restrained wrists and started to piston his hips slowly, pressing you down into the hard wood of the bar as he did.

“Fuck-” his breathing was ragged as he moved inside you, “I’m going to fill up this tight little cunt.” You groaned at his words and squeezed your eyes shut as your face rubbed against the smooth wood with every thrust. “I’m going to make you mine.” 

His free hand connected with your ass with a loud smack and you let out a surprised yelp at the painful contact. Veracruz increased his speed, his body slamming against yours as he split you open and pushed you, hard, into the bar beneath you. You whimpered as you felt your climax building, threatening to erupt at any moment. 

“Too bad no one else is here now,” Veracruz grunted, “No one will know that the pretty girl from the hospital is letting me fuck her where they get their drinks.” 

Your face heated at his words as you thought of the bartender and prayed that the door that separated him from the two of you was thicker than it looked. Veracruz’s pace was more erratic and frenzied as he chased his peak, his grip on your hips threatening to leave remnants of the affair. Your own orgasm wasn’t far off, and only grew closer as he pushed into you, his ragged breathing hot on your back. You moaned his name against the bar as you came, feeling yourself clench around his cock. This was enough to drive Veracruz over the edge and with one last buck of his hips, he let out a strangled groan and spilled inside you. 

Veracruz remained there for a moment as he caught his breath and grew soft inside of you. He pulled out slowly, savoring the mixture of the two of you that dripped slowly down your thighs. He turned his attention to your wrists and slowly unbound them before he moved to pull up his pants and buckle the belt around them. You stood up straight and began to get dressed, pausing to glance at your wrists- how on earth were you going to explain those marks to your coworkers? You pulled your top over your head and tamped down your wild hair before turning to face Veracruz, who had been watching you fixedly. 

“Let’s do this again sometime.” The cockiness in his voice made you want to reach out and slap him, but you knew that was a terrible idea. “But maybe next time-” he moved closer to you, his hands perched lazily on his belt.

“I won’t clear the bar first.”


End file.
